


Do You Want To?

by scapegrace74



Series: Metric Universe [4]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scapegrace74/pseuds/scapegrace74
Summary: The second prompt-inspired Metric Universe fic, this time in response to a request for Jealous Jamie/Claire by @stellarpuffin. Often we see Jamie being the jealous one, but this idea came to me fully formed. Set way back at the beginning of the Metric timeline, sometime between Breathing Underwater and Lost Kitten. Claire POV, and also just a hint of Jamie/John. Inspired by the Franz Ferdinand song and video referenced in the title, which is gloriously sexually ambiguous and can be seen here: https://youtu.be/1OJRRUnY--A
Series: Metric Universe [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759669
Comments: 24
Kudos: 81





	Do You Want To?

**November 14, 2015**

**Village Underground, Shoreditch, London, England**

"Are ye gonna bid on something?" Geillis asked as they made their way through a Tube car converted into an art installation space.

The friends stopped in front of a nine foot pastiche of rubber hoses, protrusions of oil paint and copper plating that seemed to be the artist's interpretation of what it might look like if a factory puked.

"I made my donation when I paid for my ticket," Claire replied. "Intriguing as these pieces are, if I don't mind every penny I'll end up homeless myself."

"Like I'd ever let that happen tae ye," her friend scoffed. "Let's head back tae the main buildin' then and make certain ye get yer money's worth in free food, at least."

Crisis UK's semi-annual fundraiser was a charity auction. Despite her jest, Claire was a regular contributor, having seen the physical and social toll of homelessness first-hand through her work at the hospital. The venue was a converted coal storage warehouse, renovated to the height of Functional Industrial Disrepair, and it echoed with the voices of patrons from all walks of life. Signature cocktails in hand, the two women stood to one side of the room and gossiped between morsels of finger food lifted from passing servers.

"Weeeel, if it isn't the wee fox cub," Geillis remarked with evil glee.

Muddled by several drinks downed in quick succession, Claire looked about for a stray forest animal. What she saw was nearly as unexpected. Standing out amongst the crowd of black dresses and expensive distressed jeans, Jamie Fraser's defiantly chaotic curls and trim navy blue uniform drew her eyes like a magnet. He was leaning down, listening in apparent rapt attention to a petite blonde woman with eyes take took up half her face and a crop top that started its life as a handkerchief.

"Thas' Leery Mackenzie," Geillis noted. "A more persistent flirt ye ne'er did meet, an' thas' comin' from me. Puir lad is in need of rescue."

In truth she barely knew the young fireman, besides having once been the only obstacle standing between his mangled body and the afterlife, but she found herself vaguely disappointed in his choice of company. But who was she to judge? Even heroes were entitled to an easy piece of tail now and then. After all, hadn't he dated Geillis once?

"Don't let me stop you, Duncan. I'll just stand here and hold up this derelict wall."

"Och, nah. Been there, done that. I think ye're the right woman fer the job, Beauchamp."

"Me?" she began to protest, but just then the background music ceased and a well-dressed man called for everyone to take their seats so that the auction could begin.

In addition to the art on display, a number of companies had donated services and experiences to be bid upon. Claire found herself wishing she could afford to indulge in the spa getaway package or a weekend for two in Margate. But then again, who would she take? Instead, she sipped on her drink and observed the crowd as item after item went on the block. Jamie was nowhere to be seen, but his blond friend sat in the front row, her bare shoulders glimmering under the bright lights. Who wore glitter to a charity auction, even in Shoreditch, she wondered uncharitably.

"Our next item on offer is sure to bring a smile to some lucky lady's face," the announcer intoned. "Lot 23 is an all-expenses paid night on the town with one of London Fire Brigade's bright young stars, Mister April himself, James Fraser. And here he is now. I'll start the bidding at fifty pounds."

Claire didn't know where to look first. Next to her, Geillis let out an abbreviated cry, sounding like a strangled goat. On the stage, Jamie had sauntered into the limelight, copperplate curls alight and tall, broad form neatly sheathed in navy blue. And in the front row, a glitter-strewn arm shot skyward before the auctioneer even named his starting price.

"Excellent, I have fifty pounds from the enthusiastic young lady in the front row. Do I hear sixty pounds?"

Hands were raised from elsewhere in the audience, but each time Leery answered with a higher bid. Soon it was only the blonde tart and a slim dark-haired man with astonishingly long eyelashes who were bidding against each other. 

Claire watched to see if Jamie appeared uneasy with the idea of going on a date with another man, but he smiled easily any time the rivals outbid each other. He wasn’t a vain man, in her estimation, but he wore his striking looks with an easy confidence that was undeniably sexy. If you were into that sort of thing, that is.

“I have one hundred and sixty pounds from the young lady in front. Do I hear one hundred and seventy pounds?”

The dark haired man shook his head, looking sincerely disappointed. Claire felt a pang of sympathetic compassion.

“...once. Going twice. Final call. Wait! I have one hundred and seventy pounds from a new bidder in the back!”

Every head swiveled around to where Claire sat, her arm raised on high. Leery narrowed her eyes as though Claire had just cursed her lineage. From the stage, Jamie made eye contact, instantly recognizing her. Perhaps she was deluding herself, but she felt he looked relieved.

“What happened tae livin’ on the streets?” Geillis snickered as the auctioneer recommenced the bidding.

“I’m banking on the fact that you took me in as a stray once before,” Claire retorted as she lifted her hand a second time.

When all was said and done, she ended up paying two hundred and ten pounds to go out on a date with a man she barely knew. For reasons she couldn’t fathom, saving Jamie from Leery’s avid clutches was more important than her own ambivalence and enforced frugality.

“Ye never cease tae amaze me, Claire,” Geillis laughed after the auction concluded. “Never in a million years would I have predicted ye had a crush on yon fox cub.”

“That’s because I don’t have a crush on him,” she denied. “I just find the whole idea of a man, or a woman, mind you, selling himself like a piece of meat incredibly distasteful.”

“Oh, aye,” her friend grinned. “Tis a noble deed ye’ve done, tae be sure. An’ now that ye’ve saved him from the butcher’s block, whatever are ye tae do wit’ him?”

“I haven’t the faintest...”

“Good evenin’ tae ye, Nurse Beauchamp. Geillis.”

The piece of meat in question stood before them, even more impressive at close range. Just over his left shoulder she could see Leery looking on with a moue of despair painted on her ample lips.

After a few casual pleasantries, Jamie said, “Sae, Ms. Beauchamp, shall I give ye my number so we can arrange a time fer our wee outing? I was thinking dinner an’ a show, but if ye prefer live music we could...”

“There won’t be any need to exchange numbers, Mr. Fraser. Save your money, or better yet, donate it to the fundraiser.”

The disgusted look Leery gave her as she and a hysterical Geillis left to grab their coats was worth every penny.


End file.
